


RAINBOW GRAFFITI

by natigail



Series: Phanfic Bingo 2019 [8]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Chaotic Good, Crimes & Criminals, Criminal!Dan, Detectives, Enemies, Graffiti, M/M, Robin Hood References, detective!Phil, thief!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natigail/pseuds/natigail
Summary: Detective Phil Lester's first case as lead detective is nothing like he had imagined. This criminal's targets are all rich and powerful and the thief always only takes one possession from their homes and leaves behind messages to them in bright and expressive rainbow-coloured graffiti. Phil quickly discovers that while this person might be a criminal, every crime is done with good intentions. It'll take him some time to wrap his head around that one.Phanfic Bingo - Chaotic Good





	RAINBOW GRAFFITI

**Author's Note:**

> As the procrastinator I am, I had to write my final bingo fic all in one day but I was so excited to actually get this one done, so I just powered through. I hope you like it.

The crime scene was a little different right from the start. It wasn’t like most thieves left behind graffiti on the wall under the painting that they had stolen. While it wasn’t unusual for a specific type of criminal to leave a calling card, especially some of the smart and cultivated thieves, it was usually more subtle than a chastising written in rainbow colours. It was definitely a new one.

Detective Phil Lester arrived at the scene early morning. It was the first case he would be heading up as a detective and he was more than a little nervous on the drive to the expensive flat in central London.

It evaporated a little when he saw the words on the words. It forced a giggle over his lips and it eased just a little of the tension that had settled in his shoulders since he had gotten the call this morning. His superiors had told him that he would just be dumped as the lead on a case soon and he had tried to prepare for everything but he could not have predicted this one.

** _the individual of this home is a cheap and cheating asshole who cut their employee’s salaries to buy material goods for themselves. they think that they can buy anything just because they want it. you don’t mind if i take this, right? _ **

“What do you think, Detective Lester?” one of the uniformed officers asked, a smile on his lips as he noticed the detective approach. “Quite the statement, don’t you think?”

“I’d say,” Phil said and scanned around the place. The thief had gone over many other valuables in the house and just left with the painting. Granted it was a huge one, by a famous painter whose name Phil could recognise but not properly pronounce. It still seemed a little odd for the thief not to take more considering they had made it into the home of a prestigious businessman without being detected. 

“Is it true no alarms went off?” Phil asked, recalling the short briefing he’d gotten on his phone with the call to action.

“Yes,” the officer confirmed. “My partner and I were the first responders but that was just an hour ago when Mr. Randall phoned the police after he came back from a business this morning to find this on his wall.”

“A business meeting that lasted until morning?”

“That’s what he said.”

Phil hummed, making a mental note to follow up on that. Mr. Randall was a big-shot CEO of a huge company. He was at the very least a millionaire and this flat was only one out of the multiple homes that he owned. His wife and children lived in a house in London’s suburbs and he allegedly used this flat when he had late business in the city and he didn’t want to make the drive. Phil had unfortunately had the pleasure of dealing with Mr. Randall before. He felt like he suddenly knew why someone had picked him to lead this case. The CEO had not been pleasant the last time the police had to work with him.

“Is there finally someone in charge here?” the infamous Mr. Randall asked, strolling into the living room, in an expensive suit and an impatient frown on his face.

“Yes, I am, sir,” Phil said, steeling himself as he walked over to introduce himself. 

Mr. Randall took his hand but it was clear that he was not paying attention when Phil told him his name.

“Whatever, what kind of punk did this? I have a high-tech security system and it caught absolutely nothing. I locked and activated the alarm in the flat when I left yesterday morning and I come home to this?”

Phil put on an appropriate expression. “It is very unfortunate, sir. However, if you have the time, I’d like to talk to you for a moment?”

“I do not have the time, I have a meeting at 10 AM that I am already late for,” the man huffed out.

“If you want us to do our jobs as quickly and effectively as possible, I would suggest you offer us your full corporation and we might find the painting faster.

"Fine,” Mr. Randall said, clearly pissed off at the whole situation. “You have five minutes.”

Phil wanted to protest, argue that it was not enough time at all, but he knew it would not work with this type of man. He was too wrapped up in his own head and he didn’t feel like he needed to make time or effort for anyone else, even now when it was actually to benefit himself. 

“When did you return home this morning?”

“7 AM,” he replied. 

“Where were you before?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Do you think I stole it?”

“No, sir. But it is prevalent for us to know if the thief had a way of knowing that you’d be away from your flat for the whole night. The care that the thief took with their… message suggests that they knew that they would not be interrupted.”

“They could not have known, it was a private arrangement that ran late,” Mr. Randall said curtly.

“Okay,” Phil said but suspecting that it would not be the case. It would be something that he’d have to follow up on when Mr. Randall wasn’t practically half out of the door. “Do you know anyone that would want to go after you?”

“About a billions people are jealous of my success. It would be easier to say who isn’t out after me,” the CEO said smugly.

“Nevertheless, a list of potential enemies might help us. Could you or your secretary potentially put together a list for us?”

“Probably.”

“Great. Please do that when you find the time. Do you have any idea why the thief is accusing you of cutting your employees salary?”

“Absolutely not! It’s bogus! Slander! Preposterous! I pay my employees very well. They are all happy to work for me.”

Phil held his tongue because anyone feeling the need to compensate that much would likely spinning a tale of deceit. He made another note to check up on employee’s satisfaction. It might be the work of a disgruntled employee. 

“Do you recall having issues with any of your employees?” Phil questioned. “Anyone harbouring ill will towards your fortune?”

“Probably all of them. What do I know? Listen, I really do need to go. Find the fucker that did this. Quick, will you? That painting was insanely expensive because of some sob-story of it of it belonging to a peasant somewhere or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do none of you know how to do work?” Mr. Randall said. “I don’t remember, just find my damn property. People should know better than to steal from me.”

With that dramatic exclamation, Mr. Randall pulled out his phone and walked out of the room.

Phil flipped through his little notepad, looking over what information he had gathered and it was not much, but at least he knew where to look right now. He needed to figure out if any employee could have staged this against their CEO, Phil could almost not blame them, and whether the painting had a unique history that might have lead just that piece to have been taken when the flat was full of valuables.

He started talking with his colleagues and begun to map out a plan. It was only in the middle of the afternoon when he suddenly had a call come through from his superior informing him that a very frantic Mr. Randall wanted to get into contact with him.

“Yes?” Phil asked, confused.

“That fucker didn’t just take my painting. He must have gotten into the secret safe too, and gotten my master password. Someone just assigned bonuses to practically all of my employees a long with some stupid message thanking them for their hard work. Everyone in the company except upper management. How could someone even do that? I want the police here immediately!”

“Of course, sir,” Phil said seriously but he couldn’t stop the little giddy feeling in his chest. This was surely an interesting case. 

It had been too early to confirm anything for certain but right now it did look like Mr. Randall’s company might very well cut corners and pay their employees the absolute minimum and avoid having to give them company-policy bonuses based on silly things. Phil found himself inclined to agree with the thief’s graffiti on the wall and he was a little surprised. 

He had always had a very clear sense of justice and it was one of the reasons that he didn’t like when people were behaving unjustly. However, he believed that they should be held accountable to their actions by legal and official means, not something like breaking into their home and invading their privacy and stealing their possessions. 

Everything was chaos at Intel Corp. Employees were smiling and greeting them until they reached the board room on one of the top floors where all the top managers were almost in tears and looking ready to tear their hair out.

Phil wasn’t sure why they had felt the need to call the police to this but it seemed like Mr. Randall wanted to demand that the thief should be responsible for every single pound that had gone into the company bonuses.

“Boss, maybe we should just retract the bonuses? We can take them back from the employee’s bank accounts,” someone suggested from the roundtable.

This just made Mr. Randall hiss out an inhumane noise. “No, we can’t because everyone is fucking thrilled. If we retreat it, there will be questions and they now know that we actually have the money to pay them bonuses and they will demand to get them. It’s all one big mess.”

Phil felt it again then, a bit of admiration for the thief. It seemed to have been well-planned out and whoever it was they must have known that this would happen when they had approved all of the transfers. The company could technically just withdraw the bonuses but it wouldn’t be without outcry. The media would undoubtedly become involved and it would not look good for their image that they were being stringent with their money or the fact that someone, a thief had managed to gain access to their system and mess around with it. It was a weakness that they couldn’t afford to show. It was an impressive feat.

“We cannot pull back the bonuses,” Mr. Randall said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you still standing here? Go catch the thief!”

With that Phil and his colleague was dismissed. The following week continued in the same odd vein. Other than a bit of administration and a couple minor assists on other cases, Phil dedicated his time to the rainbow thief, which the suspect became known as around the station. Nothing had leaked to the press within the first couple of days but then someone - it turned out to be Mr. Randall’s maid - had sent photos of the graffiti to the media. With the increased attention, it was a little more difficult to work the case in some ways but it also became easier in others. Some employees from Intel Corp. dared to come forward and talk about how they had been effectively cheated out of bonuses until now. It only took a couple more days before the media discovered that everyone at Mr. Randall’s company had received their deserved bonuses but that they had not been given out voluntarily.

Phil’s phone was ringing constantly, half the time it was Mr. Randell’s secretary that was relaying some message in relation to hurrying up with wrapping up the case. Phil tried to explain that it was never just as simple as that and sometimes cases just went unsolved. Not that he wasn’t trying to get to the bottom of it. He most certainly was but he also became more and more confused as the case went on and he learned more and more.

“Did the painting show up on any of the black markets?” he asked his colleague who he had instructed to keep feelers out.

“Not yet, but it might still be too hot to sell,” she replied. “It’s not exactly easy to see something that recognisable and expensive. The thief if probably sitting on it until people move on.”

Phil hummed, but it was not in agreement. 

He had learned a little more about the painting. It was about a decade old and it had been originally gifted to a young woman who had been a friend of the painter when he had been alive. After the artist’s death, the value of all his works had skyrocketed, as usual, and the painting had suddenly been offered for sale. Everyone had assumed that it had been sold by the descendants of the original owner but Phil had contacted the gallery responsible for the sale and they had another name listed. A name Phil would not find in the police database at all.

“Hey, detective Lester. Here is that address you wanted. It’s in Brighton, though, so it’s a bit of a drive,” an officer said as he walked up to Phil. “Why did you want it?”

“This lady is the granddaughter of the original owner of the stolen painting from the rainbow thief. I am still trying to figure out why the thief chose to steal that over some of the more valuable items in the flat, most of which would also have been easier to carry and smuggle out than a huge painting still in the frame.”

“Need back-up?”

“No, I’ve got it,” Phil said, even if it was against protocol. The police force did not normally like when detectives went anywhere alone but Phil figured he could easily handle a civilian.

The drive to Brighton was gruelling but he eventually arrived at a small house in the outskirts of town. He looked at the address one more time and cursed himself for not calling before and actually confirming that the inhabitant would be home. He would just have to try his luck. He hadn’t exactly wanted to explain this whole situation over the phone. It seemed like a bit of a touchy subject. Forty years ago when the painting had first been sold from the gallery, a local newspaper had run a story on how the painting had been taken from its original owner without permission. Phil needed to get to the bottom of it.

The buzzer was shrill and unpleasant sounding and Phil quickly yanked back his finger upon hearing it. Still, it didn’t take more than a few seconds before the door was being swung open and Phil was greeted by a woman with a charming smile. Her face fell a little when she saw Phil and he showed her his police credentials.

“Is everything alright? No one is dead, right?” she asked worriedly.

“No, nothing like that. I just have a couple of questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind? You are not in trouble, I assure you.”

The woman hummed but she still side-stepped and invited Phil inside. She told him to wait in the living room while she put the kettle on.

He did as she asked but he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room before he could make himself comfortable on the sofa. A huge painting was hanging on the wall opposite to the doorway Phil just walked through. It was the painting that had been stolen. Phil had seen enough images of it to know. 

It was called _colours_ and it showed the most beautiful sunset that Phil had ever seen captured in an image. It was overlooking a valley and every colour on the warm colour spectrum could be seen in the sky. The hills in the foreground of the picture captured almost all of the colours on the cold colour spectrum. It hadn’t occurred to Phil while looking at images of the painting on his screen but it was almost like the painting was a rainbow in itself. The colours blended beautifully together, creating a dynamic that just drew your eyes all over the painting. Phil had never been one to appreciate and understand art like some people but in that movement he felt a little moved.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the owner of the home said, walking in with two mugs in hand. 

Phil wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at it. He just knew that he should probably be arresting the woman because surely this had to be the original painting. It was too much of a coincidence that it disappeared from a home in London and turned up here. Maybe she had paid someone to steal it, maybe she had done so herself. Things were not adding up but Phil knew they only would begin to do so if he opened his mouth.

“How long have you had this?” he asked, nodding towards the painting.

“Four years, I think?” she said and Phil nearly choked on his tea. “It was a house warming present from my parents. It’s a replica of a painting my grandmother used to own. She always told me that she wanted me to have it when she died. She had just passed earlier in the year. Unfortunately, my family don’t own the painting anymore.”

Phil looked over the painting again. He wasn’t an art buff and he could be mistaken. It could just be a really beautiful replica, he supposed. But there was still something in his gut telling him that the woman’s words didn’t add up, even if it sounded like she was telling the truth.

“Sorry, what did you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a seat and gesturing for Phil to do the same.

“I wanted to talk about your family’s history with that painting actually,” Phil said. “Do you know what happened to the original?”

She took a sip of her tea. “My grandmother lost it to some debt collectors before I was born, which was weird because no one in the family knew she was in debt. It was sold off. I don’t know where it ended up.”

“It ended in the possession of a wealthy man in London, at least up until recently. It was stolen from his home last week.”

“Oh?” she exclaimed and looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know that. How horrible. Does that mean it’ll be lost completely now?”

She looked upset at the news and more than a little shocked.

“I don’t know yet. We’re trying to catch the person who did it. I must admit that we do not have too many leads yet. But worry not. The painting will surely resurface eventually.”

“I hope so. My grandmother was terribly fond of it. She was devastated when she lost it, if you asked my parents. It was all she would talk about for a year. Growing up, she would tell me stories of the handsome painter who gave her a gift before leaving. Apparently, she’s the reason that colour is spelled with a u. She insisted that is should be proper British spelling.”

“I see,” Phil said and looked back at the painting again. The way that the paint was added in layers looked so very real. Part of him wanted to ask permission to test whether this could possible be the real painting but he wasn’t sure how to ask without it sounding like he was accusing this nice woman of theft. His gut was telling him that she had nothing to do with this and it hadn’t failed him so far.

But even if she hadn’t, it didn’t mean that this couldn’t be the original. The thief who had stolen it had managed to break into a home entirely unnoticed. It would not have taken much to break into a small country-side house and switch the paintings but then why?

“I do hope you find it,” she said. “Or at least I hope wherever it hangs that people appreciate how lucky they are to look upon it. I’m very fond of my replica, even if it’s not quite the same thing.”

Suddenly a phone buzzed and the woman apologetically pulled hers out. She was about to press the button to turn the buzzing off but then she seemed to see the caller.

“This is my children’s school. I’m terribly sorry but will you excuse me for a moment?” 

“Of course,” Phil said. “Take your time.”

She apologised again and then walked out of the living room to answer the call in the kitchen. Phil got to his feet and he knew he shouldn’t be snooping but he just wanted to look over the painting. The frame around the painting looked relatively new and it definitely didn’t match photos Phil had seen from Mr. Randall’s flat from before the painting went missing. But there was still something about the way the colours mixed on the canvas that made Phil believe that this might be the original.

He snuck closer to the painting and gently ran his hand along the edge of it. As he did so, he inspected the painting even closer but he was still none the wiser to its authenticity. However, when he slightly pulled the frame from the wall, he saw something white fall out from behind the opposite corner. He picked it up quickly and looking at the little folded note. He almost didn’t want to open it.

Typed out, in comic sans, was a message Phil hadn’t expected.

its back in its rightful place. i hope it brings you joy.

Phil felt like his heart stopped. Who was this thief? Did they fancy themselves a Robin Hood or something? Phil’s heart sank a little when he realised that he would have to confiscate the painting now. He would have to check if it was really the original whether he wanted or not. He found himself inclined to agree that it might actually belong in the hands of this family but it wasn’t his call to make and it was not the rainbow thief call to make either.

Phil let out a deep sigh and pulled out his phone and dialled the number of his superior. 

“Yeah, hello, sir. It’s Phil Lester. I think I’ve found the painting. No, not not the black market. It’s hanging int he house of the original owner’s granddaughter. Yes. I am aware. I’ll bring it back for inspection,” Phil said to his superior who seemed thrilled and a little confused. 

It was heartbreaking convincing the woman to part with her painting and she kept insisting that it was a replica and that she didn’t know anything about a thief and she most certainly hadn’t helped steal it or paid someone to do so. Phil believed her but he still had to leave with the painting. It was his duty as an officer of the law. 

He promised to get it back to her as soon as possible if it turned out to be a replica. He also promised himself to look into how the original painting had ended up in the gallery that had sold it in the first place. If there had been foul play then she might have a claim on the original painting after all.

Two days later, they found someone classified who could inspect the painting. It was the original artwork. Phil felt his stomach drop.

Over the next two months, this thief turned out to be quite the menace for the police department. The rainbow thief committed two more break-ins and stole just one significant item and left behind mocking words in the amazing rainbow font. The next two victims matched Mr. Randall’s profile. Both were rich and powerful with seemingly good security systems. From one the thief had stolen a golden chalice that turned out to have been originally disappeared from a church that was a World Heritage Site. The artefact was delivered through a currier to the Natural History Museum and they did not accept that the victim of theft wanted it back. From the other, the thief stole an old book, which confused police a little until they learned that it was very old and one of the only copies still in existence. The book turned up at the British Library where an employee simply discovered it amongst the shelves a week after the theft. In each case, the victims had been away from their homes during the night and no alarm had been triggered. They also belatedly discovered that they had made huge contributions to various charities against their will.

Everyone felt driven a little mad by this criminal who didn’t leave anything behind except his words on the wall. They had gotten the type of spray paint analysed but it turned out to be horribly common and therefore untraceable. They got someone to look at the choice of words and the shape of the font, which resulted in some mildly interesting personality quirks that were somehow both specific and too broad for them to actually use it for anything.

It was quite a big case and Phil hadn’t stopped feeling overwhelmed. He might have prepared but he had not been prepared to this level of skill in evading the law. He knew that statistically, it was just a matter of time before the thief would slip up and it was the reason he tried to think less of the past crime scenes and work on who might be the next target instead. 

Phil had a feeling that they wouldn’t get this criminal if they didn’t catch them in the act. There was another aspect that they had only started to consider when more graffiti popped up. The thief kept addressing the victims in a gender neutral way. Every time and there was no use of gendered pronouns.

It might not have seemed like a big deal. Truly it hadn’t until the latest victim had complained about being addressed as such. Some of the other officers and detectives were confused but Phil felt like it was just a deeper insight into the thief’s mind. Two of the victims had been cis men and another had been a cis woman and it was clear after talking to them that they didn’t mind being addressed in pronouns that matched the gender they had been assigned at birth but the thief might not know that. Whoever they were, they were extending a curtesy of respecting potential pronouns - like it was often encouraged in internet culture - while also chastising them for their bad behaviour and for obtaining things that didn’t belong to them. It was almost sweet. 

Phil had a lot of mixed feelings about this thief.

In the next weeks, it was quiet again, which they had quickly learned meant that the thief was probably planning their new attack. The force started to scope out homes of potential victims but so far nothing come of it. Phil was starting to lose hope a little.

With no progress anywhere, they tried something new. Phil began to seek out graffiti artists, which was no easy feat. Whenever they saw him, they were instantly suspicious and the moment they learned that he was a police officer they were gone. He could understand it. They were vandalising buildings and it wasn’t legal. Phil might not agree with it, and some of the so-called art was horrible, but he was genuinely not trying to bust them for it.

He didn’t succeed in speaking with people but he did become more aquatinted with London’s graffiti. While he didn’t like some of it, he also had to admit that some of the art was impressive and he liked it. He stumbled across a couple of Banksy artworks, which he had never seen before, but also others that he would argue almost could rival the famous street artist. 

Phil started looking out for graffiti more, as it became a habit and one day on the way into work, he caught something out of the corner of his eye that made him pause in the middle of the pavement. He nearly spit out the coffee in his reusable cup.

The alley that ran along the police station had been vandalised with graffiti. It wasn’t common. Most people didn’t dare to create graffiti right outside a police station, let alone on the building. This person had and Phil clearly recognised the rainbow font. At this point, he felt like it was haunting his dreams.

** _are you going to punish them? or can the wealthy buy their way out of everything? if i didn’t, would you even have looked?_ **

Phil whipped out his phone and sent a quick collective e-mail to the whole team assigned the rainbow thief. Whoever the person was, Phil could not deny that they had guts. Vandalising a police wall and calling them out. It hurt a little but part of Phil also felt amused at the whole thing. Who did this person think they were?

Phil’s superiors were thoroughly pissed off that no one seemed to know how the thief had enough time to paint so much graffiti on the side of the wall, or why none of the cameras around the buildings seemed to have caught anyone in the act. 

They wanted to paint it over immediately and Phil wasn’t sure why he felt a bit of a bang in his chest at that. He made sure to take numerous photos before it happened and he told himself that it was purely because it was evidence in his case. He wasn’t sure why he was lying to himself but he was not ready to admit that he had gotten a soft spot for this criminal over the past months. 

They were a thief but they never hurt anyone and they seemed to only target rich people that had been a little too greedy and taken something that wasn’t theirs. Mr. Randall had been trying to get the original painting back for months but Phil was still holding it hostage as evidence, even when his superior had tried to push him to release it. He was certain that the gallery had acquired the painting illegally in the beginning and whenever he had the time, he was trying to figure out a way to prove it so that the painting could go back to the lady he had taken it from.

The Natural History Museum and the British Library had refused to give back the artefacts that they had been “given” by the thief and the previous owners could never provide proper official documentation for the purchases. At least not anything the police had deemed legitimate.

It was the night after the rainbow thief had vandalised the police building and Phil was standing outside, just staring at it. It would be gone tomorrow morning. He looked at the words, the almost angry swirls of the colours. It was a call to action more than a condemnation. Phil could feel it and he wanted to respond to it, he had tried to respond to it.

He had directed the economic department to look at Mr. Randall’s employees. He had filed paperwork for the two other victims to be watched in terms of what they imported or bought. It was not much but it was really all he could do. 

He was looking at the mural when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was a blocked number, which wasn’t entirely unusual. Phil freely gave out his phone number to people when he was investigating a case and understandably some of them didn’t want the police to be able to call them.

“Hello? This is Phil Lester speaking,” he said.

“Admiring my work?” a voice asked and Phil recognised the sound of a voice distorter instantly.

He spun around, suddenly feeling very watched, but he couldn’t see anything but shadows around him. It could be one of his colleagues playing a prank on him but he had a feeling no one would joke around too much with the rainbow thief who had gotten on their nerves so much lately.

“Do I have the pleasure of speaking with the creator of the lovely new decor on the side of the police station?” Phil asked, contemplating whether he should go back inside and try to see if the call was traceable. Even if it was possible, he would need to keep the criminal on the line for a long time and he had a feeling that wouldn’t be possible.

“I wouldn’t call it lovely,” the scrambled voice answered. “Poignant, maybe.”

“Is that so? Why did you leave it to us? Or have you stolen something from the precinct and we have yet to notice?”

A cackled came through and it sounded bizarre with the distortion. “Hardly. I’m not that bold.”

“You’re bold enough to take out high-level security systems,” Phil remarked.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He should be acting instead of just chatting but his mind told him that he just needed to stay put and the thief would say something that would make them slip up.

“You’re the leading detective in my case, aren’t you? Philip Michael Lester.”

It sent a chill down Phil’s spine to hear a criminal say his full name. He felt exposed and suddenly a little worried for his family, even if this particular criminal had not shown violent tendencies at any point. It was a small comfort. Phil tried to keep it light despite his inner turmoil. 

“Aw, you studied up on me. It’s hardly fair that you know my full name and I don’t know yours.”

“If you think I’m falling for that you must think I’m stupid.”

“No, I do not. I think you’ve proved your intelligence multiple times. It’s just nice to know who you’re talking to, isn’t it? And which pronouns to use for them. Mine are he/him by the way if you were curious.”

A snort came through. “Right. Good to know.”

“Not going to reciprocate? I didn’t think you rude,” Phil said, trying to make it come off teasing.

“Mine are the same,” the thief said, surprising Phil because he had not actually expected an answer. “You can have that even if you can’t have my name. I’ve heard that I have another name though. Rainbow thief, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It’s plastered all over the news whenever you commit a new crime. I did not pick the name in case you were wondering.”

“It’s okay. I’m actually not much of a rainbow guy but I thought it… fitting.”

“I like it,” Phil said and found no lie in his own statement. “It’s colourful and bright, which helps a little with the harsh words and accusations.”

“I haven’t said anything that isn’t true,” the thief said. “Speaking of, when are you going to give that nice lady back her grandmother’s painting? I had not planned on you actually finding that, you know. It was supposed to stay secret. Big organisations might easily know how to hold their claim but this is just one hurt family. It’s not fair.”

“You can’t just steal because you don’t think it’s fair,” Phil argued.

“Yes, when the law becomes unjust, you have to take steps to make it just again.”

“Legal steps. Official procedures. You cannot just take the law into your own hand. It makes you a criminal.”

A sigh came through the phone and it sounded even more sad with the voice distorter. 

“I’m aware. But it’s the only way I can help. So I’m helping.”

“I wouldn’t call it helping but I can tell that your intention is good. Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about this face to face?” Phil asked, risking it even if he knew what the answer would be. He needed to at the very least plant the idea in the thief’s head. Phil could tell that he was getting ready to leave.

“Right. If I ever find myself in front of you, I’ll be in handcuffs. I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll do well behind bars,” the thief said.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before becoming a criminal,” Phil said, a little sadly because he could hear sincerity in the thief’s words.

“Maybe you should consider if returning stolen property, reimbursing employees and donating to charities should be considered crimes instead. Bye, Phil.”

Phil looked at his phone and back up at the graffiti in front of him and he found himself considering the thief’s words, which was a dangerous thing to do. He’d always prided himself in not getting involved like that. People might have justifiable reasons for their criminal actions but it did not make them crimes any less. You had to have order and law or everything would fall into chaos.

The rainbow thief might be trying to do good in his own way but Phil could not condone going about it this way.

Another few months passed and the rainbow thief had four more victims - same method of operation as the others. The media had not grown tired of it yet and every single time someone had managed to leak the graffiti left behind on the walls, despite the police trying to limit who would have access. Phil had even seen that some shops were printing the thief’s words on T-shirts. Each time, Phil treated the victims with care and respect but he found himself taking the words left on the walls to heart too and he always submitted forms to ensure that whatever activity mentioned would be looked into. It was also clear that there was a relation between charity donations and past behaviour. One of the victims had been rumoured to sexually assault his employees and the fond that had been donated to had been for survivors of rape. It continued like that. Some people started calling the rainbow thief Robin Hood instead. More rich people started not to dare leave their flats unattended for the night, or if they were away for a night or out of town they would contact the police so that they could send out a patrol to watch if they were the next target.

While it was heavily covered in the media, it didn’t cause public outcry. The targets were always the rich and most people felt entirely safe that the rainbow thief was meddling in the illicit affairs of the wealthy. A lot of people seemed to support the criminal and Phil felt like he was running out of reasoning as why not to join them, except the good old: it was illegal.

It carried weight, of course it did but Phil felt like his eyes had been opened over the past half year that he’d worked this case. He could see the world from the rainbow thief’s perspective, even if he didn’t approve of the methods.

They were still trying to figure out who would be the next victims and sometimes they had been right but they had missed the day and the thief had struck unseen in the night yet again. It wasn’t until a certain name popped up that Phil felt confident that he might have gotten the right person. 

Mr. Charleston was wealthy, running a construction company that had been accused of forcing people out of their homes if they would not accept a buy-out. He had expensive taste in decoration, if any of the flashy shots from his London flat shared on Instagram was any indication. He fit the profile to a T and Phil just knew in his gut that this guy would be a target, if not the next one then one soon.

He reached out to Mr. Charleston’s assistant and requested to be informed if he would be out of his flat for any length of time. The forced had quickly learned that it was much more efficient to ask people’s secretaries to provide this information because they often knew the schedules better than the actual people.

Phil had told them to give the police as much as a heads up as possible, so he was a little annoyed when he got a call at 10 PM to inform him that Mr. Charleston had headed to France on an urgent business deal. Everyone already had assignments and he was technically off the clock but he found himself heading to the district anyway. It was unlikely that the thief would know that the flat would be empty this quickly but they had not figured out how he even discovered it in the first place and he had proven very knowledgable and resourceful so far.

So Phil parked his car outside of the apartment complex and decided to do an unofficial stake-out. His bosses would not be thrilled if they heard but Phil had never gotten anything done ever in terms of this case when he’d gone the official route. The discovery of the painting and the phone call, all of that had only happened because he had decided to take the unbeaten path.

To catch someone uncontroversial, you had to play their game and Phil could play if he needed to.

He was tired and a little annoyed with himself when it was past 1 AM and he still hadn’t seen any real activity yet. No one had even gone in or out of the building. Most people must have turned in for the night before he arrived, as sensible humans would be. Not Phil though. He was sitting in his car in the middle of the night, staring at the entrance of an insanely expensive building he would never be able to afford to live in in the small hope that he might catch a criminal that was calling out rich people for taking what wasn’t theirs and using their power to mistreat people.

Yeah. He wasn’t sure when that had become his life.

Phil was almost ready to call it a night and just go home and sleep, like he should have done ages ago, when he saw the front door of the apartment complex open. Phil knew it was currently the only exit as there was construction work out back that blocked the backdoor - he had been pretty sure that it was a violation and he’d submitted a from when he’d seen it three days ago but so far no action had been taken.

The figure that walked out of the building was tall, wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans and they had a bag swung over their shoulder. They couldn’t look more like a criminal if they had tried but Phil still knew it had to be the rainbow thief. He had been careful not to be caught in an incriminating way on camera but they had still managed to get small snippets of him sneaking in and out of boilings as his victim list had grown. It was inevitable.

Phil quietly got out of his car and started to walk after the thief. He pulled out his phone, typing his current location and saying that he was in pursuit of a suspect. He sent the text message to one of his colleagues that he knew was on the night shift. Technically, he was supposed to call in but he didn’t want to call more attention to himself. It fitted better to be typing on his phone as he tried to walk as fast as possible without it being too suspicious.

Phil trailed after the criminal for a couple of streets. In a crossing, the thief just glanced both sides before crossing the road despite the red traffic light glaring at both of them. Phil hesitated at the curb, for a beat, before overcoming his hesitation and doing the same thing. This area was dead but damnit Phil had been taught to respect the laws, even the ones that didn’t make sense. He didn’t know yet that it was only the first law that he’d be breaking tonight.

While he had been taught how to trail people, it had been a while and Phil kept worried that he was either too close to being spotted or too close to losing his target. It was making his heart beat in his chest as he tried to find a healthy balance between the two.

He knew that back up was on the way, they would all be able to see where he was thanks to his phone and they would come to the rescue soon enough. Phil fell back a little too far and he lost sight of the thief. To compensate he jogged forward a little and that was when it happened.

The man that Phil had been following turned around and Phil only managed to see that he had a black face mask on before he turned around and just took off running.

“STOP!” Phil shouted, even if he knew it would likely not have any effect.

Now, Phil had to be in a somewhat good shape as part of his job but his abilities were severely tested when he had to sprint after this criminal. Thankfully, it seemed that whoever it was, they weren’t the best runner either and the big bag on their back looked rather heavy. Phil could see that he was catching up and he did his best, sprinting now and he managed to reach out and grab hold.

Not of the person running but instead of his bag. It was still enough to provide results as the running guy stumbled, off balance at the yank of his backpack. Phil tried to pause his own momentum and in doing so he had to let go. He was worried about losing his suspect but he hadn’t needed to be. The thief fell and skidded out and it both looked and sounded painful.

Phil’s heart raced and ached at the same time, as he saw the criminal stumble, barely manage to get on his feet and limp off in direction of the nearest alley. He must not have been familiar with this area, at least not as much as Phil, because that was a dead end. The thief realised soon enough, painful limping being drawn short as he saw the tall fence blocking his path. Despite it all, the idiot still tried to jump up against it, making it nowhere near enough to get over.

“It’s the police. It’s over for you, rainbow thief,” Phil huffed out, still out of breath and feeling like his lungs were about to give out and he felt like he could taste blood in his mouth.

He didn’t like how the criminal didn’t put any support on his left leg. The thief didn’t want to turn around and face him. It was okay, Phil had him right where he wanted him. The criminal had been clever but it was clear from his M.O. that he was a planner and he looked distinctively like he didn’t have a plan right now.

“This sucks,” the thief said and Phil was a little surprised at the young and posh sounding voice. 

“You knew it would happen eventually,” Phil said, staying near the mouth of the alley, ready to dodge to either side in case his suspect wanted to make a run for it. Phil doubted he would get far with that leg though.

“A boy can dream,” the thief said and painfully turned around. 

Phil looked at the bent leg first, how the ripped jeans had been ripped open further and blood was trickling down from abrasions on the knee. Then Phil looked up to meet the criminal’s eyes, visible under a brown curly fringe and over the black face mask. 

“You had a good run. You managed to hit 7 homes in less than half a year without getting caught, if we count Mr. Charleston.”

The criminal scoffed a little at this. “More like 9. Two of them didn’t want the authorities involved, like you do when you have too much shady shit going on,” the boy replied, tone cold and chipped.

If Phil would have to guess, he was no older than his mid-twenties. He was a full-fledged adult but there was something young and boyish about him. Phil had always found it the most difficult when he had to go out and arrest young people, sometimes someone under eighteen. He felt like they were throwing their whole lives away, and how they would have a criminal record that would always follow them.

“What did you take this time?” Phil asked.

“I’m not telling you anything that can potentially be used against me. You might have the wrong guy, you know. I heard that you have no evidence from the crime scenes.”

“Perhaps not,” Phil said but eyed the bag still slung over the thief’s shoulder. “But I bet you have something in there that belong to Mr. Charleston. Along with your graffiti supplies. It will not be difficult to prove then.”

“Perhaps,” he said and winced a little as he tried to correct his posture. “Did you have to tackle me like that?”

“Would you have stopped if I asked you nicely?” Phil asked with a raised eye-brow.

This earned him a smile, he could tell even behind the face mask as the criminal’s cheeks moved up a little and gave him adorable lines around his eyes. “I might have.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “I am happy to meet you, though, Phil. You seem like a stand-up guy.”

“You checked up on me?” Phil asked, surprised one more.

“It’s only fair, since you were looking into me, wouldn’t you say? Also, why are you not arresting me or reading me my rights or something? Waiting for the cavalry or something like that?”

“Something like that,” Phil agreed. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what something like that meant here. He should have moved forward to retrain and arrest the thief. It was his job. He could play it off as waiting for his back-up which would probably only be minutes out at this point but he could still arrest someone while alone.

“I’m not armed if you’re worried about that,” the thief said suddenly.

It hadn’t even occurred to Phil, which was a bad thing. He had been taught to always be prepared, ready for people to point any type of weapon at him. But he had been studying this criminal’s profile for a long time and he found that he had never been worried. He had not deemed him violent in any way. However, it was still stupid not to take precautions. It could get him killed.

“Good to know, want to slide that bag over to me anyway?” he asked, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just been surprised at his own lack of care.

“I’d rather not,” the criminal said from behind his face mask.

“Whatever you took, it’s not yours to keep.”

“I’m aware, which is why I’m going to get it back to the rightful people.”

“I can help with that.”

“Oh? Really? What about the first painting? Isn’t that still sitting in your evidence locker at the precinct?”

“How do you know that?” Phil asked, suddenly worried about a breach of security at the police station.

“I know where to look,” the criminal said ominously. “It’s not that asshole’s. The family was cheated out of it.”

“I know,” Phil said.

“Wait, what? If you know why are you not handing it back?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that. We have to prove it and then we have to get it approved. It’s a mess and it’ll take time but it will be resolved eventually.”

“But it shouldn’t take time and you don’t know if it will be resolved. Why couldn’t you guys just have left it?”

“Because it’s illegal!”

“It shouldn’t be!”

Phil had to pause and take a deep breath. “You are aware you just said that to a police man, yes?”

“Fuck, if I care. You’re about to arrest my ass and…”

The thief’s voice trailed off, like it was only really dawning on him right now what consequences awaited him in the future. Phil could practically see it flash across his eyes and he could also tell that the thief was scared. He looked so young suddenly and Phil’s heart hurt. 

“Hey,” Phil tried to say, to console or comfort, he didn’t know but it was clear that the other man was not even acknowledging him right now. He was caught up in a thoughts spiral.

“I’m dead. What was I thinking? I can’t… This can’t be happening. I was so careful. I meant well. I swear, I… fuck, I’m the bad guy here, am I not? I kept telling myself that this was good. The ends justified the means because it wasn’t even bad means. Sure it was illegal but it was necessary and I just…”

He seemed to run out of air and Phil was stepping closer. He didn’t even seem to register it. His breathing was shallow and he reached up and ripped the face mask off. Phil took a look at his face and he looked so young and frazzled and severely in over his head. His eyes were pleading as he looked up and Phil and Phil could feel his resolve melt away. 

He had been secretly admiring this guy for nearly half a year. He had even been able to see the good in what he was doing, despite his chaotic ways of going about it. 

Phil knew that he should he arrested and locked up to pay for his crimes but something deep within his gut told him that this was not the way to go about making him pay for them. Looking at his exposed face now, the clear terror and confusion in his eyes, Phil got the feeling that they guy had gotten in over his head. Or he was a very good actor and he was playing right into Phil’s emotions and having Phil almost eat out of his hand. 

He couldn’t rule out that.

“If you’re putting on a show, you’re an awfully talented actor,” Phil commented, stepping a little closer.

He hadn’t been prepared for the thief to throw his head back and laugh loud, nervously but still. 

“I’m not. I used to do drama but not… I think it’s just catching up on me. I always think I can outrun the consequences. I’m pretty good at it, but I couldn’t outrun you. You caught me. I’m not going to resist, I promise. I might try to run from my problems but I can also recognise when I’m beaten. You got me, Phil. Good work.”

The last comment was said sarcastically with a hint of self-deprivation. It just made the knot in Phil’s stomach feel tighter and more uncomfortable and he knew that he was running out of time. His colleagues would be here any moment now. He felt like he could hear the distant sirens coming closer. 

It was easy. Phil was a good and lawful man. He could not condone this. He should not condone this. It was still crime and it was wrong and bad, even if it served a good purpose. Even if he could tell that this young man would be wasted staring at the inside of a cell. He was smart, resourceful and fundamentally good despite his methods. 

Phil couldn’t let this happen. He pushed away his own beliefs, for just long enough to come to the decision. It was in the nick of time too because he could definitely hear the sirens coming in now.

“Here,” Phil said and walked over to the fence, past the criminal. He crouched down and little and interlocked his hands. “I’ll give you a boost.”

The thief just stared at Phil with a sceptic frown. “This feels like a trap.”

“It’s not. I- You- It’s not, okay! I’m not going to arrest you right now because it wouldn’t do any good. But do not think I’m done with you, okay? We’ll have some strong words later about the wrongs of breaking the law.”

The criminal limped closer and Phil had not prepared himself for seeing the young man up close. He was pretty and he looked soft and warm despite the tried tears on his cheeks and the disbelieving glint in his eyes. 

Phil felt his heart skip a beat. Great, he thought to himself, let’s add another reason why you don’t want to arrest this guy, why don’t you?

“You’re serious?” the thief asked.

“It’s your call. If you’d rather be arrested once my colleagues arrive…”

“No, no!” he rushed to say and then he was pushing his knee into Phil’s waiting hands and letting himself be boosted up on the wall. He scrambled a little for purchase but eventually managed to get one leg over the wide fence. He hesitated there, looking down at Phil.

Phil felt like he had betrayed his badge and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Until he saw the young criminal pull the bag off his shoulders and carefully hand it to Phil below.

“I trust you will get this back to its rightful home,” he said, and he didn’t sound very sure about it based on his tone.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, rainbow thief.”

“Dan,” the thief said. “My name’s Dan. Only fair, right?”

Phil looked up at him with wide eyes, a little unbelieving that this was actually happening and wondering if it was some elaborate dream. He pinched the skin on his arm. No, it was definitely real. The thief… Dan saw him do it and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Phil grumbled.

“Well, my apologies, detective. I did not mean to disrespect you.”

“I don’t believe a word that is coming out of your mouth,” Phil said.

At his words, Dan smiled in a way that was both bright and shy. “Then at least believe this: Thanks for this. I know I don’t deserve it. But I appreicate it.”

“You better not believe I’m done with you. I’ll find you again and we are going to have words. Strong words about the law of the land.”

Dan’s smile changed, so it was now making his eyes crinkle and almost sparkle. “I could just disappear on you, you know? This is the first time I’ve made a mistake since I started. It could be a while until my next one or never.”

“You won’t disappear,” Phil said, unsure where the confidence in his voice came from.

“Oh?” Dan asked, eyebrow raised. “And why is that?”

“Because you want to do good and you’ll continue to try to do it. I just want to teach you the lawful way to do it.”

“Or maybe I’ll teach you my way instead, Philly,” Dan said and he winked.

He winked! Phil felt like his brain short-circuited for a moment at the sight.

Phil had been so wrapped up in the conversation that he hadn’t paid attention the the sirens that had been growing louder and louder in the background. 

“Get that knee checked out,” Phil said.

“Aw, are you worried about me?” Dan asked, smile on his face growing even wider. It did things to Phil’s stomach. 

“No,” he grumbled. “I just can’t have you _kneeling_ over before I’ve convinced you to stop being a criminal.”

“Was that a pun? That was terrible. You’re cute though, so I’ll let it slide,” Dan said and he was such a far-cry from the boy that had been hyperventilating in the alley not so many minutes ago. Phil wondered if he’d made a mistake but he didn’t think so.

“Get going before you get us both in trouble,” Phil said, glancing over his shoulder. He could see the flashing lights approaching.

“I’ll call you, Phil. I promise.”

With those parting words, Dan swung his other leg over the fence and while Phil could not see through the fence, he could hear the shuffling of him walking away. Two seconds later a cop car pulled up to the alley and two officers stepped out, hands on their weapons.

Phil didn’t look forward to saying, or rather lying, by stating that the suspect had evaded him. But it was the right thing to do. He had to believe that.

Dan was clearly a chaotic mess, but he was also fundamentally good.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't proof-read or edit this, so I do apologise for any errors. I just didn't have time because I needed to get it up before the bingo deadline. With this one in the bag, I finally have bingo! YAY! *celebratory noises* Thank you to anyone who's read any of my bingo fics.
> 
> While this is the last fic that I'm posting out of the bunch, it was actually the first one that I wrote down an idea for. I was fascinated with the whole chaotic good concept and I hope I did it justice. As you're probably able to tell, the story could expand past this one shot, so if you do want more of the boys in this universe, do drop a comment and let me know. I might just write it. I'm soft for Dan in this, because he's such a careful planner but also a real wreck - which might come off a little stilted through Phil's perspective. Also, my poor Phil having to make this kind of choice is not easy but in the end he went against his "alignment" and went with what felt right in the moment. Dan might have rubbed off a little on him without Phil really realising.


End file.
